I watched Gwen’s hands shake as she took a sip of coffee. Her hair was in tangles, and makeup ran down her cheeks. Her eyes were swollen from a combination of crying and lack of sleep. I had known her for a decade and yet had never seen her this upset. My hand went forward instinctually to comfort her, but she slid her hand back so fast I thought she may have been hit with a cattle prod.
“No, Henry,” she said simply, “I’m not there yet.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying anything, I just…” I faltered. My eyes drifted down to my empty hand where it remained on the table.
She nodded and took another sip.
“I’m pregnant, Henry,” she whispered as the cup came away from her lips.
Suddenly everything slammed into place in my mind. I saw all the danger Gwen had been in because of me, the constant stress of the job getting to her, and the realization that she would be forever linked to Jeff.
“Does he know about the baby?” I asked.
Her head barely shifted side to side as she took another drink.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
She didn’t reply. Her eyes had glazed over, and she was far away. I waited for over an hour as her mind went through the nearly infinite number of paths she could take moving forward.
“I don’t know what to do…” she said, finally breaking the silence.
“Whatever feels right, Gwen. I’m not exactly the best candidate to give you advice, but I do know that no matter what you decide, I support you all the way.”
Her hand came over the side of the table slowly, reaching for mine, “I know, Henry. I love you for that.”
I grabbed her hand and felt the cold skin. “Whatever you need…”
“I need to kill him. I need to kill Jeff…”